


Dare of Honor

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crack and Angst, Fluff and Mush, Gen, Nervousness, Ocean Fun, Omens & Portents, One Big Happy Dwarf Family, Overprotectiveness, Stubborn Dwarves, Taking Dares, trying new things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Company of Erabor does not take slights to their honor lightly. They'll do almost anything to prove themselves, even break one of the unspoken (but very important) Dwarven rules: <strong>Stay away from large bodies of water<strong>.</strong></strong></p><p>Of course they go to the ocean.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare of Honor

No one really knew whose idea it was, but the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was on another quest. To most it would seem like this one was less important, that it didn’t have dire consequences if it ended in failure, but in the minds of the thirteen Dwarves it most definitely did.

They were taking a dare of honor.

None of them had ever seen the ocean before, but when a visiting band of Elves had the nerve to suggest that they were afraid to do so, the subjects of Erabor began whispering. Was their king going to let this slight go unpunished? (Sadly, in Dwalin’s case) Thorin let the Elves go without the infliction of bodily harm. However, he did gather his Company that same night, announcing that they would go and see this ocean so all the fuss would be over.

“We cannot allow the Dwarves of Erabor to doubt us, even in such a small thing as this,” Thorin reminded them.

So it was that they found themselves shuffling in a line of thirteen ponies toward the large stretch of sand and water in the distance. They’d been traveling for a few weeks now, which had given them all plenty of time to contemplate if it was worth it.

Óin definitely didn’t think so. “I’ve heard tales of old, tales of those who have been swept away by the tides! Even the recent portents advise against it,” he warned. His words immediately made the others uneasy, but Thorin was relentless in his orders.

“We will see the ocean this very day and prove that we are worthy of the Elves’ respect,” he said sternly.

“I don’t need to prove anything to them,” Dwalin muttered. “Smug old pale-faces.” Nevertheless he followed suit when Thorin leapt down from his pony and tied it to a tree a few yards away from the beginning of the sand.

Thorin knew he needed to be the first who stepped on this unfamiliar territory. Drawing in a breath, he moved regally forward and took the step. The sand was craggy and uneven—far less reliable than stone, Thorin noted uneasily as he tried to make his way forward without tripping. He could sense the others wobbling obediently along behind him and hoped he wasn’t making a grave error in this.

Kíli eventually sat down, pulling off his boots and stockings, as their weight made it even more difficult to walk on the rugged ground. When he stood up, the sand was grainy beneath his feet. He shivered. It was a new sensation, but one he had to get used to. He shuffled tentatively along, moving ahead of the others toward the great blue. Squeaking a bit when he found himself in soggy territory, Kíli stood very still, watching the water rise in a wave and then fall, sliding along the sand, heading—Mahal, straight at him!

 _Splash_. The water hit Kíli’s feet and he tensed slightly, wondering if something horrible was going to come of it. He watched the foam play at his feet for a moment before hesitantly wiggling his toes. They all seemed alright...He took a few steps forward, following the spume as it dragged itself away from him. All at once he was ankle-deep, then calf-deep, then knee-deep. The Company watched in horror as Kíli waded out into waist-deep waters.

“Kíli?” Fíli hollered. His heart jumped in alarm when Kíli didn’t even twitch at the sound of his name. He stood with his back to them all, gaping at the water, seemingly entranced by its glimmering surface. Fíli panicked, kicking off his stockings and boots and running after him. That was his little brother and if there was some kind of hypnotic curse on the water Fíli would die before seeing Kíli fall to it!

“Kíli!” Fíli cried out again as he waded toward said prince. “Are you alright?!” The answer he received was a splatter of salty, ice-cold water in the face. He let out a rather unmanly yelp and Kíli giggled, announcing that of course he was alright and that they should play! Fíli spluttered for a few more seconds, watching as Kíli surged further into the water. He wasn’t about to lose Kíli, Fíli swore...but he also wasn’t about to be outdone by him. A tiny grin finally surfacing on his lips, Fíli took a deep breath and began paddling.

Dwalin had felt his king’s wide eyes on him as soon as ripples had appeared from the impact of Fíli’s feet against the sand. Now, with only a sliver of reluctance, Dwalin made his charge, tearing off his boots and furs and weapons and leaving them in heaps along his wake. He was minutely grateful to Thorin, who followed after him and picked up his belongings so they wouldn’t get too sandy.

The water was practically numbing, Dwalin discovered as he swam toward his custodies. He wondered if it was a spell to incapacitate him but eventually blew it off as the simple cold. He didn’t dare think more of it, lest he, as the Menfolk put it, ‘weird himself out’. He called to the boys to stay close to the beach but they didn’t seem to care. Fíli went so far as to reply smugly that they would be fine, as he would stay close behind to protect them if they went further out. Dwalin didn’t really resent his words—he resented the fact that they were true.

Ori neatly folded his stockings and set them beside his boots, dashing out toward his two best friends. “Fíli! Kíli! Wait for me!” he entreated happily, waving at them. He ignored his oldest brother’s shout of dismay that followed after him and leapt into the cold water, shivering in delight. It really wasn’t so bad, though, as was shown by the Durin Heirs’ expressions of glee and Dwalin’s expression of eventually acceptance.

The ocean was simply a larger pond than usual, Ori mused as he took long backstrokes out into the deep. He wondered why no other Dwarves had dared come down here a long time ago. It wasn’t really enchanted—well, on second thought...Ori puzzled it over while he swam back and forth and decided that if the ocean was enchanted, it was something nice.

Dori was practically jumping up and down at the edge of the water, hollering, “Ori, be careful! You do know you’re going to ruin your clothing, right?!” When Ori answered that he knew Dori had packed another set, Dori doubled his fists. “Don’t sass me! Pay more attention to what you’re swimming in! It’s—it’s dirty, filled with germs and who knows what else! Ori, really, you shouldn’t be in there! Please, just keep your head above the surface, alright?! I want to be able to see you at all times!”

Agonizing and fretting even worse than usual, Dori ran back and forth along the beach, sending up puffs of sand as he went back and forth, wringing his hands. Occasionally he would pause to bellow some kind of warning to Ori, but he had to keep on the move. When Nori finally kicked water at him and told him sternly to sod off the lad, Dori headed for a nearby jetty so he could pace there.

Nori watched his older brother go and then rolled his eyes. What was so bad about the water? He went in about as far as Kíli had at first and stayed there, swirling a finger in the water. No reason getting his perfectly-crafted hair wet when he could enjoy the water’s effects here in the waist-deep area. He studied the beach behind him and found, to his surprise and pleasure, that it had no places to hide for an ambush. Suddenly Nori wondered what he should do with himself, if not guard his loved ones?

When was the last time he had actually _relaxed_? How long had it been since he actually let go of his cares and freed his senses? Nori knew that, if he ever would and could do it, this was the place. Therefore he tipped his head back, soaking in the warmth of the sun on his face while the ocean chilled the rest of him. He listened to the crashing of the waves around him, how it gently pulled him back and forth. When he opened his eyes, Nori wasn’t exactly certain if he was still in the same spot or not. Surprisingly, he didn’t even mind.

Balin took Dwalin’s coat and weapons when Thorin handed them over, folding them neatly and setting them beside Kíli and Fíli’s things. Afterwards, he sat down and put his chin in his hands, watching the other Company members and pondering how the Elves would take the news that they had, indeed, seen the ocean. Balin couldn’t help but smile as he pictured the looks of discomfort on their thin, creamy, beardless faces.

He had always been a diplomat, Balin thought with a smirk, but rooted deep inside him, just like any Dwarf, was the belief that Elves were slightly less than likable. Well, now they could get a taste of their own medicine, especially that Thranduil. Balin began planning what he would say to that Elven King if he came calling to Erabor and decided to tease the Dwarves for their fear of the ocean. “Sorry, Lord Thranduil, but we’ve already been there. Oh, and I almost forgot you weren’t a Silvan Elf. They’re the ones who actually have the guts to live near the water, aren’t they?” Balin burst out laughing but quickly stifled it when Thorin glared at him.

Glóin approached the water tentatively at first, but when Nori called out that it was alright, he decided to trust him and started out. He could feel squishy things beneath his feet at first, until he couldn’t feel anything due to the chill. He didn’t mind it all that much, as it would keep him from startling if something unfamiliar touched him. He’d already heard Nori chuckling about it from behind a few minutes ago.

Now it was time to be daring, Glóin decided. Carefully undoing the decorations in his beard, Glóin tossed the clips back to his brother, as well as his locket containing the drawings of his family. “Óin, take these for me, will you?” His call caught the attention of all the Dwarves, which was the way Glóin wanted it. Beaming widely at all of them, Glóin dove beneath the waves. Even under the surface Glóin could feel the disbelief and tension that crackled through his companions. After a moment or two Glóin popped up again at Nori’s elbow, his booming laughter swiftly spilling out even when Nori whacked him upside the head.

Óin pocketed Glóin’s belongings, shaking his head free of the worry that had struck him only seconds before. Leaning on his staff, he watched each of the swimming members of the Company with a careful eye, making sure none of them were being swept away or eaten by some undersea creature. _Would hate to run into a cousin of that Watcher thing in Moria,_ Óin thought to himself, gnawing on his lower lip. Sighing deeply, Óin watched his brother dive up and down like some kind of insane fish, laughing whenever any of the other Dwarves took sharp breaths of relief as he came back up.

No one seemed to be in need of medical help, Óin decided, but he would keep watching just in case. Wait—what was that? Óin shaded his eyes, gasping as he saw a fin poke up from the sea. It was gone just as quickly and Óin wondered if he’d imagined it. Then it appeared again, creating a cycle of up and down, up and down. Standing alert, Óin tried to tell if the creature was coming closer to the shore, but it seemed to be keeping its distance. The doctor’s jaw dropped as a beautiful creature, the owner of the fin, arced gracefully through the air and then disappeared once more. Óin realized that as soon as he got back to Erabor he would have to do some research. _Lots_ of research.

Bifur didn’t want to go into the ocean—it hurt his eyes as the sun reflected off its surface and the cold wasn’t a good idea with the axe in his head. Therefore he settled down on the beach, making handprints in the wet sand. He watched Bofur and Bombur hesitate at the calls of their friends and he hoped it wasn’t because of him. He called to them in Khuzdûl, waving a hand toward the ocean. His eyebrows rose when they both shook their heads, saying they’d rather stay on the shore.

Shrugging, Bifur rose to his feet again and pointed to a lumpy mound of sand, wanting them to help him investigate it. “ _I think it used to be shaped like something_ ,” he mused in iglishmêk. Bofur’s eyes lit up and he exclaimed that that was a great idea, that they should make a sand sculpture. Bifur stared at him in disbelief but made no comment as he was suddenly ordered to start gathering wet sand and adding it to the mound.

Bombur rolled his eyes when Bofur told him to go get some seashells, but he wandered off nonetheless. For a while he simply strolled, forgetting his task as he took in the picturesque surroundings. Stone was the birthplace of Dwarves, their rightful home, and it always would be, Bombur mused, but the beach wasn’t so bad either. He startled when Bofur shouted after him, reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing.

Upon finding a shell that wasn’t broken, Bombur strained to bend down and pick it up. He studied its shiny blue surface, however, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to let it go on a sand sculpture, so he slipped it into his pocket. The rosy-peach-colored one that he found next went into his pocket also, for his wife. Bombur realized that each of his thirteen children would want one too, so he began finding shells for them as well. When Bofur asked him how the search had been going, Bombur was the picture of innocence as he replied, “Maybe this is a shell-less beach.”

“Shell-less, indeed,” Bofur muttered. “Well, we don’t need them.” Turning his back on Bombur, Bofur brushed a rounded edge off a tower that Bifur was adding to their castle. When Bombur inquired as to what it was, Bofur sighed. “Bombur, it’s Erabor! Can’t ye tell?” Bombur said he couldn’t, much to Bofur’s dismay. Even as he started muttering about his brother’s lack of creativity, Bofur knew he wouldn’t be able to keep in a sour mood for long. He was crafting Erabor, he laughed to himself, quickly adding a smaller tower on the left side. Really, Thorin ought to have another one put into the real thing...

Bofur soon began shaping the statues that stood guard at the Dwarven kingdom’s entrance. When they were finished, Bofur sat back to admire them—and immediately cried out in horror as a stick with a flap of cloth tied on plunged into one of the heads. Bofur’s own head jerked up and he gaped at Bifur, who beamed contentedly at the flag he had just used to impale the Dwarven statue. Bofur decided he was wrong—he was _definitely_ able to keep in a sour mood.

Thorin breathed deeply of the salty air, opening his coat to feel it on his skin. He liked the sensation and wondered what the water was like. His Company seemed to be enjoying it. There were a few times when Thorin considered going in there himself, but he knew he had to remain regal and stay on the beach...but would it be cowardice to stay behind? He argued with himself on this matter, walking in unison with Dori.

Eventually Balin, who was sitting nearby, leaned over and tugged on the edge of Thorin’s coat as he drew close. “Thorin. Look at your nephews.” Thorin knew that tone could swiftly become dangerous, so he obeyed. Fíli and Kíli were wrestling in the water with Glóin and Nori cheering and Dwalin laughingly putting critiques on their movements. “This is your one chance to stop being a king for once,” Balin reminded him sternly. “So stop. Consider it a dare of honor to go out there and be with them!” Another hard tug from the statesman brought Thorin’s coat off his shoulders and onto the ground. Without warning, Thorin felt lighter on both the inside and outside. Smiling ruefully, he bent down and unlaced his boots.

He probably would have ended up going out anyway, even without the dare.


End file.
